
:pk;IOe so cezst 




MORE TRUTH THAN POETRY, 



-BY- 



^ 



MRS. EUREXXA WHEBUER. 




Lopyrlghted, 1891 



fVIORE 



TRUTH THAN POETRY. 



BY^ 



MRS. EUREXXA WHEELER. 






BINGHAMTON, N. Y. 

"«. R. UACON, JOB PRINTER, Il6 STATE STREET. 

189I. 



\ 




PREFACE. 



To THE Public : 

This little book which I oft'er to a sensible public is one of originality 
written and arranged while discharging my daily household duties, re- 
cording thoughts as they flowed in the channel of understanding. If 
this production is acceptable and appreciated by the reader I shall reap 
all I anxiously expect. Hoping it may find favor and be a household 
friend, I remain with sincere respect. Yours Truly, 

Mr.s. Eurkita Wheeler. 



/ 



A GOODLY THOUGHT 

I gaze around the universe 
s. And view its features grand, 

^ Which bear the impress everywhere 

j^ Of an ahnighty hand. 

^ The glowing sun, whose dazzling beams 

rv Sends forth a golden rav, 

^ As on his burning throne he dwells 

'Mid never ending day. 

A The silvery moon, whose milder beams, 
?V~ Attend us as we roll, 

^ And breathes to us throughout the night, 
-. /^ Of our immortal soul. 

1^1 The glistening stars whose gleaming light 

vv Was of intrinsic worth, 

^ When they assisted long ago 

Unto the Saviour's birth. 

The mountains vast which to the skies 
Rear their majestic forms — 

Upon whose heights Jehovah stood, 
Amidst the whirlwind's storms. 

The boundless sea whose restless waves 

Forever onward roll. 
And seem at times to be possessed 

With an uncouquered soul. 

Then as I gaze upon the works 
Of my Creator's hand, 

Which all their offices perform 
Unto his least command. 

I ponder in my inmost soul 
And wonder at the cause, 

That God can so regard a man 
W^ho disregards His laws. 



LIFE'S DISAPPOINTMENTS. 

Though to-day the roses blossom, 
On the morrow they will die. 

And the sunbeams glowing brightly 
Will have faded from the sky. 

And the friends you've loved the dearest 
To your heart, shall prove untrue. 



And yonr dreams of earthly heaven 
All be hidden from your view. 

Oh the fair and glowing visions 

Greeting us on life's fair morn, 
Which as forth we go to meet them. 

Die as quickly as they're born. 
Oh the phantom form of pleasure 

Which we eagerly have grasped, 
But to find a withered spectre 

In our warm embraces clasped. 

Oh the cup of bliss untasted 

Which we once had thought to quaff, 
Oh the wheat we thought to gather 

Where we nothing found but chaff, 
Oh the bitter disappointments 

We have met with on the waj' ; 
Only night and gloomy shadows 

Where we looked for brightest day. 

Though the morn of life was joyous 

Yet our blisses faded soon 
And of much of bitter sorrow 

Had we tasted ere 'twas noon, 
For the waters of affliction 

Have encompassed us about,- 
And the night of life is troubled 

With anxiety and doubt. 

Then though roses bloom in splendor 

And upon the morrow die 
Yet their germs will grow and quicken 

Into beauty by and b}^ 
For as seeds will not enliven 

Lest the parent blossom dies, 
So the soul from out the ruins 

Of afflictions shall arise 
To become a glorious blossom 

For the realms of Paradise. 



YHARNINGS. 

As the fever heated patient longeth for the cooling streams, 

Babbles of them in delerium, hears their murmur in his 
dreams; 

So my heart forever yearneth for that home beyond the 
skies 

Where my loved ones wait my coming in the realms of Par- 
adise. 



There tlhey re^t"besidethe waters, flowing through tlie "pas- 
tures green, 
.•A..S they dwell 'mid scenes celestial fairer thau our e,ves hath 

seen, 
"AVhere the flowers forever Wossom and the birds forevet 

sing, 
In the glowing vales ©f Eden in the country of our King 
There the serrow laden spirit sweetest rest shall find mui 

peace. 
For that golden country entered, all oEr cares asid troubles 

cease, 
And as sunshine seems the brighcest after nights of darkest 

gloom. 
So the sweete!«fc joys await us at the entrance of tire tomb. 
Then no woudec that my spirit sinking 'neath its weight of 

care, 
Anxiously awaits the smmmcns to that land s© bright and 

fair, 
"Where the glorious voice of angels in triumphant song ari^e 
As thej dwell in joy forex^er in the realms of Paradise. 



THE BEAUTIFUL LAND. 

There""* a beautiful laud that I see in my dreams 
With magnificent gardens and fountains and streamy 
Where no withering blight on its inmates shall fall. 
And the light of the spirit illuminates alL 

''Tis the land of the soul, 'tis the home of the blest, 
AVhere the poor weary spirit from trouble may rest 
With the latnbs of the flock in their beautiful fold, 
When the storms of this life all beyond it have rolled. 

There's a glorious stream in that beautiful land, 
Of whose waters which flow over glistening sand, 
You may drink and forget all your sorrow and strife, 
And the wame of that stream is the Ri^'>er of Life. 

There's an all healing balm in that beautiful land 
For the souls who temptations and trials withstand ; 
And that balm all the woe of the spirit shall cure, 
If the strife to the end of the race we endure^ 
There's no darkness or night in that beautiful land, 
Which the spirit illumines with radiance grand. 
And the end never comes to the ransomed soul, 
For those ages of bliss shall eternally roll. 
Then I pray I may keep in the way that is right 
'Till my soul from this body of clay take its flight 
To the home of the blest on that glorious strand, 
Safe at last in the realms of that beautiful land. 



ACTS OF KINDNESS, 

This life is too short to be trifled away 

111 hatred's conte-fitions or useless displaj' ; 

Oh better, far better it is to perform 

Some action of kindness to keep the heart warm.. 

There's many a person each day that we meet 
At home or abroad, in the workshop or street, 
Whose lives would be better and nobler by far 
If they had to guide them sweei friendships, bright star. 

There's man)' a heart that is aching with pain, 
A striving to stand against scorn and disdain, 
Whose bitterest sorrow would soon disappear, 
With actions of kindness their pathway to cheer. 

There's plent}' of work if you're willing to do, 
The sad and the weary from trouble to woo, 
A gentle word here and a pleasant smile there, 
And many a heart is relieved of its care. 

Make smaoth the rough places for faltering feet. 
Give to the down trodden encouragement sweet, 
And whisper of Heaven to spirits that mourn. 
And lighten each burden too heavily borne. 

Then bright and resplendent your harvest shall be. 
Full ten-fold you've given returning to thee. 
And happy you'll be, you was led to perform 
Such actions of kindness to keep the heart warm. 



NOW AND THEN. 

When this crushed and broken spirit 

Goes unto its final rest. 
And these weary hands are folded 

O'er this still and pulseless breast. 
And the fire of sense and reason 

Ivie in ashes 'neath this brow. 
Will the world which judges harshly 

Judge as harshly then as now ? 

I have tried to do my duty. 

Striven hard to walk aright. 
But the ones who should have helped me 

Made my burden far from light, 
And when standing on the margin 

Of the fearful gulf of sin, 
They who should have tried to save me 

Strove to push me farther in. 



7 



It is hard to have to buffet 

All the storms of life alone, 
Knowing that your very neigh1)or 

Hopes to see you overthrown, 
Hard to stand and vainly struggle 

'Gainst an all opposing tide. 
Knowing that your purest motives 

Are on every hand belied. 

It is hard to face the forces 

In a battle so unjust, 
Knowing you'll receive no mercy 

'Til 3'ou're humbled in the dust, 
And although within your spirit 

You can but despise them all. 
It but makes them in their fury. 

More determined you shall fall. 

I am weary and discouraged 

With this war of hate and strife. 
And I at my Maker's option 

Gladly would lay down my life. 
And when I with willing spirit 

Unto Death's decree shall bow. 
Will the world which judges harshly 

Judge as harshly then as now? 



FAINT NOT. 

Faint n®t, oh weary spirit. 

Sink not beneath thy cares, 
For from the deepest shadows 

A light breaks unawares ; 
And what thou deem'st misfortunes 

A benefit may prove, 
,The way that God has taken 

To try }'our faith and love. 

Faint not although thy pathway 

Is now bestrewn with throus. 
For from the darkest midnights 

Spring forth the brightest morns ; 
And where the way is shrouded 

With shadows from the tomb, 
'Twill soon break forth to sunshine. 

To beautv and to bloom. 



riien faint not, oh my spfn'f,. 

But struggle bravely ou, 
For-somi before thy vision 

A glorious day shall dawn ; 
And know oh soul the greater 

The cross which liear you bear,. 
The brighter will the crown' be 

Which, you in Heaven' shall wear- 



OUTOFTHRDHPTHS. 

Jehovah called and from the depths>= 

Glistened to his voice, 
As he in tones of sweet connnand 

My spirit bade rejoice, 
And bid my soul that long had lain? 

In bondages and thralls. 
To now escape from durance vile 

A.nd scale its prison walls 
And I with with joy unspeakable 

His mandates did obey. 
As He my soul from death and night 

Brought forth to life and day. 

This spirit which had" d'ormanit Taina 

Within the pit immured, 
Now purified from earthly dros» 

By woes it has endured, 
lie bids from trammels to be ff-ee,. 

And from the depths to rise,. 
And pierce the nxxghty universe^ 

And soar beyond the skies, 
And though I've pondered in nry soulf,. 

And vainly sought to know 
Why He the King of Heaven shoulcB 

Such gifts on me bestow. 

Tis all in vain but unto Tliee 

For all thy gracious ways, 
My soul in reverence doth bow,. 

And yield undying praise. 



THE CITY OF REST 

As I sat at my casement'oue eve long age, 

As the golden sun sank in the west ; 
It did seem as I looked through a rift in the cloudsf 

I could see the fair City of Rest. 
Oh the bright Jasper walls of thai city I saw. 



And the streets of pure gold I could see, 
And the river of life as it rolled froui the throne, 
With its glorious waters so free. 

Ikit the sight to mine eyes the most blissful of all, 

Was the face of the crucified one. 
And the light from His features so holy and grand 

Far exceeded the light|of the sun, 
And I saw 'niong the angels who worshipped Him there 

Many friends who had died long ago, 
Whose trials and troubles have all passed away. 

And the}' tread where the still waters flow. 

They shall rest evermore in those pastures so green, 
With their souls free from sorrow and strife, 

I'or they conquered the world and their names are all writ 
With the saints in the lamb's book of life. 

And they beckon to me from that faraway shore. 

And I long in my soul to be there. 
When begirt with temptations too strong to resist, 

And my cross seems too heavy to bear, 
Then the great clouds of crimson and purple and gold. 

Rolled together away in the west ; 
Sliutting out from my view all those visions so fair, 

Of that beautiful City ot Rest. 

T'was a fancy I know that was born in the brain, 

And a yearning for something more pure, 
But as long as these pulses this bosom shall thrill, 

The bright scenes of that land shall endure, 
And when torn in the conflict of right with the wrong. 

And temptations grow strong in my breast, 
I pray in my heart and my spirit grows strong 

As I think of that City of Rest. 



GONE BEFORE 

They are not dead, the friends we mourn, 

Not dead but gone before, 
And while we grieve their hearts rejoice 

With Christ forever more. 

Our tears fall o'er the marble form, 
From us so rudely torn we think, 

But do not think their feet 
Were wearv, tired, and worn. 

Nor do we know how much their souls 
With sorrows were oppressed. 

But God, the poor tired hearts hath seen, 
And taken them to rest. 



i<y 



TTs Sard to part from those we- lo\'tf^ 

And oh what Bitter pain, 
To know the lips we'\-e kissed; scoff 

Shall ne'er respond again- 

V'o know those sightless ^eath diinim«d e^'KK- 

Shall never more a-wake, 
-ind when we know that death has w-oia. 

It seetiitB our hearts would bieak. 

And when the palid fbmr is laidJ 

At rest beneath the sod', 
it seems uuto tire saddened soul 

There's nothing left hvA God. 

We should not grieve o^er lifeless ela^^ 

With aching heart and sore^ 
9or they're not dead, the friends we nijoiisrTir, 

N.ot dead but gone before. 



TONDERrN:G. 

I tvonder if there is-aIan<J 

Away beyond the ^y. 
With pastures cTothed in living greer? 

And fk)wers that never die. 
Where sorrowed hearts that cou-ntzy gainjecJ, 

Are never known tcsigh. 

I wonder if the soul shall lose 

Its heavy weight of sin. 
And all its cares and sorrows seem® 

As though they had not been ; 
While joy and peace reign in their stead. 

That country entered in, 

I wonder if the scornful words. 

And bitter sneers unkind. 
Of those who hated us on earth 

Are ever brought to mind ; 
Or shall they be with sin and woe. 

Forever brought to mind. 

I wonder if the toiling poor, 

By woeful want oppressed, 
Who scarce can keep the soul alive 

Within the etar-vdng breast, 
So loud the wolf knocks at the door. 

Shall plenty find and rest. 



VI 



T wonder if the soul shall meet 

Within that spirit land, 
With friends who left them Imig ago 

To join that angel band, 
-And if they'll know each other ther« 

Aaid clasp the kindly hand. 

Then if there is snch a wondrous land 

To gain it I shall try. 
And frotn this hour I'll seek to place 

My treasures upon high. 
Where moth and rust doth nolcorrsipt 

AjQd pleasures Jiever die. 



RULE OF LIFE- 

As I the way of life pursue, 
X,et me unto myself be true, 
And yield t-o all their due respect, 
INor unto any show neglect. 
But prove myself unto the end, 
A generous foe and faithful friend. 
JSTe^'er let me frawn unto the great. 

Nor sneer at those of low estate ; 
But give me a well balanced mind, 
That I may justly treat mankind, 
Nor do an act I've judged as mean. 
When I've that thing an others seen. 

AVTien friends in whom I've put my trust, 
Into my heart a sword shall thrust, 
And 'gainst me in their souls devise 
A thousand wicked sland'rous lies, 
I<et me not give as I've received, 
But live so they wont be believed. 

Let me be found a trusty friend. 
On whom my neighbor can depend, 
And though report be good or ill, 
A faithful friend they'll find me still, 
Who to the end will see them through. 
Nor judge none false 'til proved untrue. 

If I perchance much gold should win, 

Let me but count it as a sin 

To hoard it while both want and woe 

1 may relieve as on I go ; 

And deem it lent me but to bless 

And aid the poor in their distress. 



If on his way m}- foe should fall, 
Or should be driven to the wall, 
L,et not my spirit be so bad 
As at his failure to be glad, 
But rather lend a helping hand 
And yield my gold to his command. 

Let me not think to thrive and grow 

TJpon the ruins of a foe, 

Nor strive to glorify my fame 

By adding to another's shame, 

And when I can but illy speak 

Of others let me silent keep. 

If on my way I come across 
A man who faints beneath the loss 
Of character and wealth and friends, 
Let me for their loss make amends ; 
Befriend him in his woeful plight, 
And lead him once more to the light. 

Thus may I live a peaceful life, 
All free from discord, hate and strife, 
That He may say, who rules above. 
And shields us by His mighty love, 
When I the race of life have run : 
Thou faithful servant 'tis well done. 



MY FLOWERS OF PARADISH. 

On Duty's dark and cheerless shrine 

I sacrificed my love, 
And saw the treasure of my heart 

In incense float above ; 
And as it unto Heaven soared 

In undulating swells. 
It changed into a garland fair 

Of Heavenly Asphodels, 
Which angels grasped and bore awav 

To realms beyond the skies. 
And there my flowers of Love shall bloom 

For me in Paradise. 

And from the embers on that shrine 

A beauteous flower arose. 
Whose fragrance soothes the bosom's pangs 

And heals the spirit's woes. 
Which round the pathway of the soul, 

With its immortal bloom, 



^3 

-A itazzliiig radiance doth shed. 
And beautifies the tomb ; 

-\iid wlien this soul at last is free 
To soar beyond the skies, 

This flower of Duty too shall .bloom 
JFor Jiie in Paradise. 



K1:ST. 

Ve ■wholieavy laden are, 

Who beneath yoiir burdens beTid ; 
j[^alx>ring be3'OTid y-our strength. 

Come and T will be your frietid;; 
I will bear3'ou in m}- arms; 

T will shield you on my breast; 
•Come you sorrow laden souls, 

Come and I will give yon re^ 

'Ye whose lives are full of ^oe, 

One long round of trouble here, 
Having not a ray of hope. 

All your lonely vray to cheeT; 
Take upon ye now my yo'ke, 

Heed \-enow my fond request, 
And yourbiirdens on me cast, 

And I'll give your spirits re^^ 



WORDS OP PRAISH. 

If I may, by a word of praise. 

Or kindly action cheer 
The path of sorrow's struggling child, 

Which erstwhile was so drear ; 
Or bring a ray of light and warmth 

Unto the heart that's cold, 
My spirit must be mean indeed. 

Such kindness to with-hold. 

A word of praise unto the soul. 

That strives to do its best, 
May fan to flames the fires divine, 

W'hich slumber in the breast. 
And quicken in the torpid mind 

Ambitions and desires, 
Which may enlighten all the world 

Throueh their refulsrent fires. 



14 

Some souls on oppositions thrive, 

But more on honest praise, 
And when my own was weathering 

Its very darkest days ; 
A word of sweet encouragement 

Brought forth unto the light, 
The spirit which so long had dwelt 

In the abodes of night. 

Though open praise they claim's disgrace, 

I see no reason wh}' ; 
For surely without light or sun 

The strongest plant will die; 
Nor can I see what hurt 'twill do 

To speak the good I think. 
Nor how 'twill harm the thirsty soul 

Of honest praise to drink, 
And if I by encouragement 

May warm the heart that's cold, 
My spirit must bejmean indeed 

Due praises to with-hold. 



RELIGION AND CREED, 

My sins they did condemn me. 

And so I thought I'd try 
To find the way to Heaven 

Before 'twas time to die ; 
And as my mind was doubtful 

Wherein my duty la}', 
I thought I'd seek the shepherds 

And have them show the way. 

I found a Baptist preacher 

And talked with him a while. 
He said that he with water 

Could wash away my guile ; 
But for though I lived religion 

And did my duty well. 
Without this one condition 

My soul would go to hell. 

This seemed so very narrow 

I left him on the spot. 
And to the Parish Bishop 

Myself I quickly got ; 
He said I must do penance 

The forty days of Lent, 
And then it didn't matter 

How other time was spent. 



15 

This seemed too great a license 

So to a Priest I hied, 
Who, Protestant religion 

Most bitterly decryed, 
And said 'twas well I came to him 

For 'twas essential, very, 
That I my sins to him confess 

And pray to Virgin Mar)\ 

T didn't like his logic 

So to a Methodist 
I went with my petit'on. 

Who did my story list, 
And said that all 'twas needed 

Was there to take my place, 
And I would soon be perfect 

Through ever growing grace. 

This didn't seem sufficient. 

And so I then besought 
A Presbyterian preacher. 

And this is what he thought : 
That what's to be will surely be, 

And that we must expect. 
But if I'd come with him I might 

Be one of the elect. 

I turned away in sorrow, 

For not a single word 
Concerning Christian duty 

Had I from any heard ; 
Nor how to find religion; 

So homeward I did turn. 
To look within mj' bible, 

To see if I could learn. 

" Then love ye one another " 

Were just the words I saw, 
For therein lie the Prophets, 

Religion and the Law. 
And I've about concluded 

That what the people need. 
Is ratlfer more Religion 

And rather less of Creed. 



THE DIFFERENCE. 

When a man is dead and buried, 
Of his virtues how we preach. 

But when he was living with us. 
Very diffrent was our speech ; 



x6 

1-1 IieVi not condone oitr A-ices 

Or could see' in us a fault, 
We would smirch his reputation, 

An^ Wis character assaulL 

We would strike hi^m in the dark,nesH:„ 

Smite him when he could not see:. 
Strive to- n>ake him out a rascal, 

Better though, he was than we — 
And if others wsrll bespoke hiin 

We woiild listen with a sneer. 
And with meanest inuendotS; 

Make him at his worst appear: 

Now, the pallid corpse arraigns us 

For the evil that ws did ; 
And we fain would shut his ujem'ry 

Safe within the coffin lid ; 
And our conscience now awakened^ 

Crieth bitterly, forgive. 
And remorse within our bosoms^ 

To our d\nng day shall live. 

Roses plant we o'er his- body ; 

Thorns we gave him when alive^ 
And for e\nl that we did him 

Now, to make amends- we strive. 
But it nothing now availeth,. 

For repentance came too late^ 
And he cannot hear our praises, 

Though they reach, to Heaven's gate- 
Then beware of evil speaking. 

Be it of a foe or friend ■;. 
For you'll surely see your folly 

When it i& too late to mend ; 
And may this, our sad experience. 

To our souls- this lesson teach — 
To' be kinder to the living 

Ere they pass beyond our reach. 

Your character and your repute 

Are similar as brothers ; 
Your character you make yourself— 

Your reputation others ; 
And though your character may be. 

As pure as at creation, 
You still may have through sland'rous tongue.'^ 

The vilest reputation. 



IT (^,Oi:S ACAINST THE GRAIN- 

When I see a foul injustice done, beneath niy very nose ; 
When I see a churlish upstart treading on his neighbor's toes; 
When I see a poor man struggle 'gainst oppression all in vain, 
'Till he sinks beneath his burden, how it goes against the 
grain ! 

When I see a man insulted, and then injured by a lout. 
Whom in trouble he befriended, and with money helped 

him out. 
When no other man would trust him, and then lets him plead 

in vain, 
I'or the justice he refuseth, how it goes against the grain ! 

When I see a scornful woman shrug her shoulders with a 

sneer. 
When a weak and erring sister, in her presence doth appear ; 
Whilst the poor repentant woman, tries her footing to regain. 
She still lower tries to push her, how it goes against the grain! 

When I see a humble person enter in the house of God, 
And on every hand is greeted fey the cold looks ol* he proud — 
'Till he feels that Jesus' mission on this earth has been in 

vain, 
And retires with bioken spirit, how it goes against the grain! 

When 1 see a rank injustice done because it is the law ; 
And the greedy rich man gathers in his great rapacious maw, 
All the substance that the poor man long has labored for 

in vain. 
And forecloses then his mortgage, how it goes against the 

grain ! 

When I see a righteous movement strive against a mighty 

wrong, 
(For the fittest scarce surviveth, but in story and in song.) 
And the nobler effort faileth with its labor all in vain. 
While the evil reigns triumphant, how it goes against the 

grain ! 

But the time is drawing nearer, when oppressor and op- 
pressed, 
Both expect to enter Heaven, there to find eternal rest, 
And when he the proud aggressor finds his expectations vain. 
And receives his righteous judgment, will it go against the 



gram 



i8 

GRATITUDH 

Oh gratitudp ! Oh gratitude ! 

Thou boon of peerless price, 
I scarce!}' think the selfsame breast 

Hath known thy presence twice ; 
Or, what is worse than that by half. 

When I the facts recall ; 
I think there's hardly one in ten, 

Who knows thy worth at all. 

The more a man will do for us, 

The more wt want him to ; 
Then merely kick him for his pains 

When he has helped us through ; 
And if perchance the world should turn, 

Upon him with a frown, 
We haste to be the first to pull 

Our benefactor down. 

The fiercest brute that ever roamed. 

By kindness is subdued ; 
And even dogs, inferior beasts, 

Will show their gratitude. 
But man whom God did once create, 

The angels scarce below ; 
Is just the only creature, who 

Ingratilude will show. 

AN EVIL TONGUE- 

Of all the ills by which we're cursed 
An evil tongue's by far the worst ; 
It seems as though a horrid nest 
Of vipers dwelt within the breast. 
And aided by the tongue their spite 
Spit forth in venomous delight. 

The tongue's the key that ope's the door 
Unto the thoughts we have in store ; 
And whether they be good or ill, 
Reveal the truth the tongue it will; 
For every vrord we speak you'll find — , 
Their sources have within the mind. 

An evil tongue, oh who can tell 
The mischief that this member fell, 
Has wrought upon the heart of man 
Since first the world its course began; 
Or count the souls that it hath sent 
To ruin throusfh its vile intent. 



19 



Oh how much sorrow it ^•asc"rsed, 
How many faithful friends been lost, 
How man}- enemies been gained, 
How man)' loving hearts bten pained, 
And with the deepest anguish wrung 
By its foul means, an evil tongue. 

Oh is there then, no way that we 
Rid of this fearful curse can be ; 
Refine the heart, from that proceeds 
All evil words as^well as deeds ; 
And when the stream's cleansed at its source, 
Pure then 'twill flow along its course. 



WHALTH \'S- WORTH- 

'Tis wealth and not worth that commands the respect 
Of the people who dwell in this land. 

And if you've but dollars though fool or a rogue, 
All society's at your command. 

Your father and mother might both have been lumg, 

And you too, if you had your desert. 
But never you mind if you've plenty of gold, 

For 'twill hide every vestige of dirt. 

But if you are poor though of brains you've a store. 
And to-da)f should go out on the street, 

'Tis scarcely a smile or a nod of the head, 

You receive trom the friends that you meet. 

But let it be said that a fortune you've heired, 

And to-morrow go out just the same ; 
Of greetings, handshakings, kind wishes and such. 

All descriptions would be but too tame. 
This worship of gold you will find in the church, 

Just you enter the door Sundaj' morn. 
With garments both old and a little threadbare 

And but note how you're treated with scorn. 

Roth pastor and people your presence ignore. 

Not a kindly hand to you is given ; 
(I can't help but wonder if that's how 'twill be 

When they all live together iu Heaven.) 

Then at eve go again in some costly attire. 

And but note what a difference 'twill make ; 

The very best seat is now offered to you. 

And your hand they all warmly do shake. 



Whilst if their Redeemer arrayed in the garb 

That he wore while he toiled here on earth ; 
Should enter the house dedicated to Him, 

His appearance would only cause mirth. 
That's pretty strong language I hear some one say. 

But you know just the same that its true ; 
For genius or brains have no weight with the mass, 

And I fear 'tis the same too with you. 
For man may be noble, heroic and grand, 

With the best gifts of nature endowed, 
But if there's no gilding to give them relief, 

No effect do they have with the crowd. 
.\nd thus vou will find it wherever yon go. 

That if rich yon will ne'er lack a friend, 
But if you are poor 'twill be counted a loss, 

For which nothing else can amend. 
Then shame on this toadying worship of gold. 

Which has spread like a bli ^ht o'er the earth ; 
And recognize man as God meant that yon should, 

For his Intellect, Genius and Worth. 



DON'T RHPINE. 

What though to-day your luck seems lo;t. 

Don't sit and pine in sorrow ; 
But pluck up heart and go to work. 

For better things to-morrow; 
For every cloud you know they say- 
Has got a silver lining. 
And just beyond the darkest shade. 

The sun is brightly shining. 
What though your friends prove false to you. 

Your character assailing ; 
'Twill do no good to sit and mourn. 

Nor railing give for railing ; 
Keep right to work and let them go, 

Whatever be their versions, 
And only let it stimulate 

You on to fresh exertions. 
Then pass along and do your best, 

And things will come out righth' ; 
And right across your path the sun 

Will soon be shining brightly ; 
Then take the world just as it conies, 

Nor extra trouble borrow. 
And you will find as on you climb, 

There's better things to-morrow. 



inii SLAi\l)l:RliirS RliBEKM 

'.rbey say tkey (lo -well, le't'them say,, 

I guess I knowthey do:; 
•And niue tenths of the stuff they tefi 

Is every woid untrue"; 
And so yoTi need'nt sit mid try 

T© make me take it in, 
For I'm not overpleased-to hear 
About youT neighbors sin. 

Vour neighbors sin, concerning fh at. 

I'm sure I do not know, 
iliut somehow slie'-s displeased ^oli all. 

And so her overthrow 
"\'ou all together have conspired, 

To someway bring about, 
And so yoa come to me and throw 

Insinuations out 

"Your neighbors sin consists 1 guess, 

In being fair of face, 
And having more of natures gifts, 

Than any an the place; 
-And having seen the little minds, 

For which 3^ou well are known, 
She does the thing she ought to do. 

And leaves, you all alone, 

-And so together you've conspired, 

To crush her to the ground ; 
"While ifa^gainst her you were weigher^ 

You wanting would /be found ; 
.A'nd if one half tlie tilings you do, 

Should to the light coifte out, 
'Thait any one would notice yow, 

I wonderfully doubt. 

.And so T'll say tiglit liere and now, 

You'd better take advice ; 
And drop this story wliere it is,, 

Before yoti tell it twice ^ 
For folks who live in houses glaSS^ 

Should never throw -a stone. 
And ere they sweep clean their neighbors steps, 

Thej^M better clean their own. 



WOMM. 

I^railt}' tjiy name is woman, 

So a gifted poet sung, 
But Deceitfulness I'd name her, 

If my mind could find a tongue ;: 
iSlan is called a base deceiver, 

So he's noted far and wide,. 
But to come right down to business,. 

He'&an angel by her side; 
J'or no man that's born of woman. 

To her level e'er can sink, 
And I think 'twixt man aiid Satan,. 

She must l3e a kind of link.- 

Oh the baseness of the creature, 

When she once makes up her nnncf . 
That her more successful sister,. 

To the shades must be consigned; 
Then it is she shows her nature. 

And a devilish trap she'll set, 
And with wiliest devices. 

Draw her victim in her net ;r 
She'll pretend to her she loves her,. 

That she wants to be her friend. 
And in ev'ry kind of trouble, 

Upon her she must depend. 

Then her confidence she'll capture^. 

Worm her closest secrets out. 
Then upon the very housetop*, 

Her shortcomings slie will shout :, 
And .slie rests not from her labors, 

'Till her victim prostrate lies 
Under such a load of Scandal, 

That she never can arise ;: 
Then when she hath wrought this, niit?,. 

Goes serenely on her way. 
Thanking God she was created,, 

Of a more superior clay. 

You may sing of gracious woman. 

You may toast her at your wine. 
You may quote her as an angel. 

And a being most divine ; 
But she must be rather dift'rent. 

From the specieS' I have seen. 
For of all of God's created, 

She's the meanest of the mean. 



THH MILIJ:N111M. 

■" Weill, what's the news? " "What ,' 'Aint you heari 
About the thing that has occured?" 

'Well, with surprise 'twill sitrike you dnnil). 
The great inillenium has come." 
"Vou don't saj- so?" " Well yes I do.'" 
"It seems .so good it can't be true." 
"'Well, but it is, and I'm so glad. 
For I w-as feeling prett)'^ sad, 
IFor things were getting you'll agree, 
About as bad as bad could be ; 
• And if the J- 'd kept a going on. 
To certain ruin we'dliave gone; 
'But fortli from darkness springs the light. 
And all our wrongs will be made right. 
The women folks who've had no chance. 
Because they didn"! dress in pants, 
And <jnh' got one half the pay. 
For doing just as much a day, 
As any of the men could do, 
And sometimes doing better too, 
Will stand with them on common groMnd^ 
And be on equal footing found ; 
The manufacturers I learn, 
Will pay their workmen what they earn ■ 
And aid them if tkey are distressed, 
.And in return by them be blessed ; 
And merchants swear no more to lies, 
To sell to you their merchandise. 
And butter, flour and coal they state, 
AVill all be sold by honest weight ; 
The rich men will no more abuse 
Tax systems, but will pay their dues,; 
..\nd of their figures swear to facts, 
And with the poor share equal tax ; 
The lawyers will no more advise 
.A man to do a thing unwise, 
And law against each other when 
There is no cause of action then ; 
In lieu of bread give him a stone, 
And pick the meat all off the bone. 
And claim it for his rightful fee, 
For now no lawyers will there be ; 
For as no man will do a wrong 
Their occupation will be gone ; 
And politicians who have wet 
The people's throats their votes to get, 



?4' 



And scattered fivers far and wide,. 

To get their ballot box siipplied ; 

Their occupation too- must lose. 

For now the people's voice will choose 

An honest man to lead their cause 

And rtrletheir land and make their laws : 

And editors, no more they say 

Will hate their rivals o'er the way. 

And neither one will now accuse 

The other one of stealmg^ news,,. 

Or writing articles unfair, 

IsTor to- false- circulation swear ;; 

And liquor dealers toe they th,infc 

Will be obliged themselves to drink 

The poison stuffthey make to sell,. 

To men to send their souls to hell ; 

And I do'nt see no- reason why 

They in a. short time will not die. 

And small the loss would be if they did.. 

If of this curse we might be rid ;; 

And doctors too no more will charge 

You but fo-r time tliey s|>end. at large. 

For you and for the healing drugs 

They'll deal to yon from their ow^l jugs'. 

And you no more to druggists send 

An extra fifty cents ta spend ;, 

A«d wonjankind no more will vex- 

Hei- sister but will love lier sex. 

And all mankind will prove a friend 

llnto each other to the end ;; 

And genius will with moral worth 

Be recogmzred tlirouglioutthe earth ; 

The ministers- they too will preach 

Unto the people if they'd reach 

Their shining goal, that Hea.venly land. 

They nnist be joined in heart and hand. 

And throw contentions all aside 

With malice and ignoble pride, 

.^•ttd make no odd& 'twrxt high and low 

And na res-pects> to persons show, 

But all be joined for common g.ood 

In universal brotherhood ;. 

I thank the Lord that in onr night 

He's sent this glorious ray of light. 

And that I've lived to see it come., 

This wonderful Millemum. 



=^5 

11 S A LONG ROAD THAT HAS NO TURN. 

It's a very long road, sir, that hasn't a turn, 
And I want you from this thing a lesson to learn, 
That the man who from shame you avoid on the street. 
You may deem it an honor at sometime to meet. 

Do not think that because you are prosp'ring to-day 
That the thing is a going right on in this way ; 
For who knows but that you ere your time comes to die. 
May ask alms of the beggar whom you did deny. 

And the man whom to-day you have flonted and jeered. 
In the future may be by the millions revered, 
And unfit you be deemed, to unfasten the shoes 
Of the man you have covered with scorn and abuse. 

While the man who is honored and gifted and rich, 
His career may wind up at the end in the ditch; 
F'or the great are abased with their pride to the ground, 
And the lowly upraised when the wheel turns around. 

Then you'll find it is best to be courteous to all, 
For the curses you give on your own heads shall fall ; 
.And oblige vou to honor the one you did spurn, 
For there's no road so long but it comes te a turn. 



THE GOSSIP. 

Good morning, Mrs. Smithers, 

I thought I'd jest run down 
And see if you could help me 

A trifle on my gown ; 
And seein' you're so busy 

I'll jest throw off my hat 
And set here in the kitchen 

And have a little chat. 

You know agin my neighbors 

I never say a word. 
But I'm a gwine to to tell you 

A little thing I heard 
Afore I started down here 

About that Widder Lee, 
Who isn,t tew my thinkin' 

Jest what she orter be. 

I know she's run and chased here 

All summer after Jake, 
But I sha'n't .spile my story 

Jest for relation's sake ; 
And when I'm through a tellin' 



26 

Some of the things she's done, 
I don't believe you'll hanker 
To h^ve her for your son. 

'Twas Nancy Green that told me, 

She said that yesternight 
She sat on her piazzer 

Afoie she lit her light, 
And saw a handsome stranger 

Stop at the Widder's house, 
And so she watched proceedin's 

As quiet as a mouse. 

The widder's lamp was lighted. 

So she could plainly see, 
For all her blinds was open, 

Jest as they allers be ; 
And when she saw the stranger, 

She run like all possessed, 
And let him hug an' kiss her 

And hold her to his breast. 

They sat down on the sofy 

As lovin' as could be, 
And Nancy says she saw her 

A settin' on his knee ; 
An' bein' how's for Jacob 

She'd be no likely mate, 
I thought I'd come and tell you 

Afore it was too late. 

You thank me very kindly. 

But 'twas her brother John, 
Who'd come to see his sister 

A wedded to your son ; 
And that's the very reason 

You couldn't fix my frock. 
Was cause their to be married 

Tew night at eight o'clock. 

And folks who gad about 

To talk about their neighbors, 
Had better be at home 

Attendin' tew their labors ; 
And not be quite so anxious 

Some trouble for to brew, 
I think jest so Mrs. Smithers, 

And that you know is true. 

I guess I'll be a goin' 
Fer it's a gettin' late, 



27 

And my, if there aint Nancy, 
A comin' through the gate ; 

Well I'll go out the back way 
Afore she's up the walk. 

For I despise a woman. 

Who'll of her neiijhbors talk. 



LHND A HELPING HAND- 

When you see a person drowning, 

Do not stand aloof and shout 
Haifa dozen sermons at him, 

But just go and help him out ; 
For he's sinking and he needeth 

Manual aid and not advice, 
And no good will do your preaching, 

Though it be both wise and nice. 

For the waters of affliction 

Now encompass him around. 
And unless you help him quickly, 

In a moment he'll be drowned ; 
Pull with all your might and main then 

Till he's safe upon the land, 
Nor desert him 'til he's able 

On his feet ouce more to stand. 

' But suppose it is a person 

Who is scorned by other men, " 
All the greater is the reason 

That yovi should befriend him then ; 
For but one against an army 

In the fray will quickly fall, 
And with all the world against him 

He can never rise at all. 

Then let duty rule your conduct, 

On your footsteps ever wait ; 
And whenever there's occasion, 

Help the poor unfortunate ; 
And if ever you are tempted 

To neglect a fallen man, 
Please to recollect the story 

Of the good Samaritan. 



2S 



You yourself may meet with trouble, 

Great misfortunes be your own, 
Then yoy'll find when comes the harvest 

You shall reap as you have sown ; 
And the measure you have meted 

Shall be meted you again. 
So by all the good you hope for, 

Kindly treat your fellow man 



INGRATITUDE. 

If ever misfortunes against you prevail, 

Or slanerous stories your name shall assail; 

'Tis strange but 'tis true that the person you've shown 

Particular kindness, will cast the first stone. 

Yes, he is the first who pretended to feel 
The truest of friendship to lift up his heel ; 
While he whom we counted our bitterest foe, 
The greatest of clemency tow'rds us will show. 

And he who was certain that he could depend 
In seasons of trouble to find us a friend, 
To turn so against us in troublesome times. 
Ingratitude maketh the basest of crimes. 

Such heartlessness robs us of faith in mankind. 
And sometimes we think that no good can we find ; 
But such things were common long ages ago, 
As stories of Judas Iscariot will .show. 

Then if of such troubles you've ne'er had a part 
Prepare for the blow ere it strikes to your heart, 
For the one whose afi^ections }'ou think are your own 
Will be the most forward in casting the stone. 



PROFESSION NOT POSSESSION. 

You think 3^ou are a Christian, 

Of that you've not a doubt. 
Because you go to meeting 

Each Sunday in and out, 
And pay the best attention 

To sermon and to prayer, 
And make a fine profession 

And in the communion share. 



29 

Vou're not the only person 

Who think that all thej- nee(1 
To walk right into Heaven, 

Is to adopt the Creed 
Of any of the churches, 

Profess, and sing and pra}-, 
And share in the communion 

On Sacramental day. 

1 guess yo\i don't consider 

The oar of faith is dead, 
Without the oar of action 

To send the craft ahead :; 
And lest you "have them both, sir. 

At once at your command. 
Your bark will soon be foundered 

On self religion's strand. 

For by their works you'll know them, 

The poor apprentice said ; 
For by tbeir works youMl know thera, 

And be the}- quick or dead ^ 
And if their works are evil 

You'll catch them unawares. 
For wheat cannot be gathered 

From sowing seeds of tares. 

You think yKDU are a Christian, 

Now let me say a word 
Concerning se.v'ral actions 

Which lately have occurred ; 
And one is of the widow 

Who rented rootns of you, 
Whose rent through much of sicknesss 

Was two weeks over due. 

And having no wherewithal, • 

This small expense to meet, 
You turned her and her children 

Out in the stormy street ; 
AVhere, from the want of shelter, 

Which you to her denied. 
She sickened from exposure, 

And 3^esterday she died. 

Then there was Tommj' Allen, 

Who took a loaf of bread 
To give his crippled father 



JO 

From hunger nearly dead ;■ 
Who, when he plead for mercy 

To yo« without avail, 
You thought to teach a lesson. 

And had him sent to jail. 

Then there was Charlie Summers, 

A bright and likely lad, 
Who, through associations. 

Was going to the bad ; 
And you who might have helped liiu*. 

An'd raised him up a niche. 
With bitter tauntings sent him 

Still lower in the ditch. 

Then there are sundry stories 

About dishonest weight 
Of articles you're selling. 

Which here I'll not relate ;; 
And if that you're a Christian, 

You're bounden to believe ; 
I think it must be Satan 

Who does j'our soul decieve. 

For bj' their works you'll know thenr. 

The poor apprentice said ; 
For by their works you'll know them. 

And be they quick or dead ; 
And just because a person 

Of religion makes profession. 
It doesn't always follow 

That he has it in possession. 



K\(]CK HIM DOWN AND KICK HIM FOR 
FALLING 

Oh the meanness of this world. 

It really is appalling. 
To strike a man and knock him down. 

And kick him then for falling ; 
And if he strives to make a rise 

And we be the regarder, 
We turn around and go right back 

And kick him all the harder. 

The greater wrong we've done a man. 

The more we try to hurt him ; 
And when we've got him in the hole 



3^ 



We cruelly desert him ; 

And if through us he's done a wroitj^ 
We twit hiui of his evil, 

And try the very Taest we know- 
To drive him to the devil. 

Eut if he scorns us and our works, 

And boldly bids defiance. 
And goes to work to be a man 

With st-urdy selfreliance ; 
There's nothing hurts our little minds 

So bad in all creation, 
And if we could we'd doom him to 

Complete amiihilatioTi. 

But as we can't do all we can 

To bring about his ruin. 
And go around among his friends 

And set a trouble brewing ; 
And when we hear on every hand 

Him wickedly berated, 
Our little grovling spirits are 

Exceedingl}^ elated. 

And when he's driven to tbe wall. 

Which is the more the pit}', 
We feel more satisfaction far 

Than if we'd took a city ; 
And when we've got him :n the mud 

We goad him and we prick him, 
And if he strives to rise again 

Unmercifully kick him ; 
For oh the meanness of this world. 

It really is appalling, 
To strike a man and knock him down 

And kick him then for falling. 



THE DEAD BABY. 

Ivovely little waxen baby. 

Lying there so still and cold, 
Fairer than the snowy blossoms 

Which thy tiny hands doth hold, 
Sweeter than the fragrant incense 

Which the flowers around thee shed 
Does thy spirit dwell in Heax'en 

While thy body lies here dead ? 



52- 



Were the angels waiting for you 

When in death you closed your eye*? 
Did they bekr you with them swiftl}' 

To their home beyond the skies? 
Did the}' lay yon softly, gently, 

On the waiting Saviour's breast^ 
Giving Ton a joyful welcome 

To the eity of the blest ? 

But my questions thou'lt not answer^ 

For those lips shall never speak, 
Nor the dimples chase each other 

O'er th}? lovely rounded cheek ; 
Stilled those restless hands forever,. 

Closed in death those starry eyes ; 
But I know thy spirit, beauty, 

Lives again in Paradise. 

Lovely little waxen baby 

Lying there so cold and still. 
Thou art free from earthly trouble,. 

Ev'ry woe and ev'ry ill, 
Like a bud too sweet to blossom 

In a world so drear and cold, 
Thou hast left this earth for Heaven, 

There thy beauties to unfold. 



DOUBTINGS. 

Perhaps )-ou'll go right straight along 
And do your neighbor all the wrong 
It lies within your power to do. 
And still be judged as good and true ; 
But then I rather doubt it. 

Perhaps you'll keep up all your days. 
Your sneaking, underhanded ways, 
And Justice's voice be ever dumb, 
And Retribution never come ; 

But then I rather doubt it. 

Perhaps the curses you have thrown 
On other heads shall bruise your own, 
And lay the edifices low 
Built on another's overthrow, 

However much you doubt it. 



35 



Perhaps Uie luillri of fate grind slow, 
•But then they surely grind you know, 
•And when your soul feels no alarm 
You'll feel the weight of Justice's arm 
Before you've time to doubt it. 



LINES ON PARNHLL 

Oh thou man of great pretensions, 
^."nto what divine ascensions 

Thy endeavors might have readied ? 
Had not thine own wicked actions, 
•Caused ])y s-trife nor party factions, 

In the end thyself impeached. 

Parnell, thou idol once enshrined, 

In ev'rj- patriotic mind, 

Thy glorious sway, alas, is o'er, 

Thou'rt fallen now to rise no more ; 

And woe betide the evil day 

Thou proved thyself but common cla}-. 



THliRFS ALWAYS SOMEBODY. 

Whatever you do and wherever you go, 
Somebody will make it their business you know, 
And though to please all you sincerely should try, 
There's always somebody you can't satisfy. 

Thei'e's alwa3s somebody a looking for flaws, 

And gazing to see if propriety's laws 

You don't overstep as you go on your way, 

And hope and desire in their hearts that you may, 

For nothing's so sweet to a mean little mind 
As morsels of scandal, which if they can land, 
(And hunt they will for it on flimsiest grounds), 
Their joy at discovery knoweth' no bounds. 

They'll turn it, and twist it, and pat it, and roll, 
And tell it to every identical soul 

That they meet, be it said to their shame and disgrace, 
And how such a person can honest folks face ; 



34 



I'm sure I can't tell, but then people who're mean 
Are always a looking through spectacles green, 
And think if to yoii they've another's faults shown 
You'll be a forgetting to look at their own. 



MR JONES' DECISION 

I've pondered on the subject 

And have made up my mind 
That friends who're true amd faithful 

Are scarce and hard to find ; 
And though I've been a trav'ling 

This forty years or more. 
And thought of true companions 

I had at least a score ; 
I found when trouble met me 

They'd leave me on a run. 
And when a friend I needed, 

I wouldn't have a one. 

You know there's lots of people 

Whose hearts seem like to burst. 
They hold so much affection 

For you, but who're the first, 
When trouble comes a calling. 

To make the greatest speed 
To get away and leave you 

Afore their help you need. 

You've heard about the rabbit 

Who had a hundred friends 
As long as she could pander 

Unto their selfish ends ; 
But when their aid she needed 

To help to bear her through, 
A life and death concernment. 

They'd something else to do. 

And so I've allers found it ; 

The more that I would do 
To help along xay neighbors 

The more they'd want me to ; 
And when I'd done one favor, 

Another they would ask, 
And found when ,twas accomplished, 

'Twas all a thankless task. 



They'd claim that they were anxious 

To help me get along, 
But when I asked assistance 

The}' sung a different song ; 
And said that all my trouble 

Was caused b}- nn' neglect 
Of things I might have seen to, 

And I must not expect 
That they could bear my burdens, 

While I sat at m}' ease ; 
And this is all I got from 

The ones I'd tried to please. 

And so I have concluded 

To independent be, 
And pay no more attention 

To them as don't to me. 
And if upon my travels 

I have the luck to fall, 
'Twill not be on relations 

Or friends that I shall call ; 
But unto perfect strangers 

For succor I shall go. 
For I shall be more certain 

To find it there I know. 

I'll do as I am done by 

By either foe or friend. 
And go upon my journey 

Alone unto the end ; 
And with consideration 

I'll treat myself I'd mention. 
And deal no more in friendship, 

That's nothing but pretension. 
And all dissolves to nothing. 

Jest like an empty bubble, 
As Boon's it comes in contact 

With any kind of trouble. 



JEALOUSY. 

Oh, we jealous minded women, 
How it does our spirits vex. 

When we hear a man applauding 
Any other of our sex ; 

For we cannot bear that any 
Should be noticed more than we 



And we wish our fairer rival 
At the bottom of the sea. 

She may be-*of all tiie women. 

Just the oMe we've loved the most :. 
And the one we most admired too, 

And have e'en been known to boasl' 
f)f her wonderful attractions ; 

But when men begin to sing 
Gf her beanty and Her graces, 

It is quite another thing. 

Then the evil passion Envy, 

Ever dwelling in our hearts, 
(Vilh the desidly bow of Slander, 

Shoots a thousand poison darts :. 
At our imsuspeeting sister. 

Ami nor night nor day rest we, 
Til we've sunk her reputation. 

To the bottom of the sea- 
Why this evil disposition ? 

Wh}- this tendency to hate 
tier whom we should love sincerely 

Is a myst'ry very great 
And impoEsible to fathom ; 

But this thing I know full well, 
That the fountains of such spirits 

Have their sources deep in hell. 



SHAM AND DECK 

■ nf sick and tired of fhis deceit 
I And sham which everj' where I meet,. 
And if you care with me to go, 
Some of those shams to you I'll show ;, 
And if you've time now for the same 
Come on with me behind this dame, 
Who's going up the street to call,, 
Whom we will follow in the hall 
And there b}- keeping very still 
Hear all that's going on we will. 
Note how the hostess comes to meet 
The dame with pats and kisses sweet ; 
For she's so glad that she has come, 
And that she chanced to be at home ; 
I'or reallj' since she saw her last, 
It seems as though an age had passed ; 



" And so this is A-our baby here, 

Oh what a darling little dear, 

For children I'm completely wild, 

And this is just the sweetest child 

That ever drew a living breath 

And I shall love him just to death ; " . 

And so her tongue runs on this wise 

Until the lady doth arise 

To take her leave, " aiid must you go ? 

I am so sorry it is so. 

But come again as soou's j'ou can 

And bring this darling little man." 

Then when the dame has left the place 

Behind her back makes up a face, 

And says she hopes the nasty cat 

Will never bring that horrid brat, 

Who has the most detestful ways 

vShe ever saw in all her days 

Inside of her tour walls again. 

Then to the waiting door maid : "Jane, 

If here again she e'er should come 

Vou tell her that I'm not at home." 

While she, the one who made the call, 

A horrid nuisance, notes it all, 

For she, that woman at her best 

Does imreservedly detest ; 

And all she went there for I wot 

Was just to see what she had got ; 

.And as to that she having learned 

She hopes her call wont be returned. 

Oh Women, you who seem so sweet 

Are nothing but a vile deceit. 

Here stands a man upon the street 
Who seems the gentleman complete, 
" A perfect creature, nobly planned 
To love, to honor, and command ; "' 
A princely form, a kingly mind. 
Here certainly no sham we'll find ; 
Now cast your eye along the street 
Where comes a woman fair and sweet, 
With perfect form and lovely face 
And every movement full of grace ; 
He tips his hat with bow polite. 
And ere she's scarcely out of sight. 
He turns to friends a standing near 
With knowing smile and scornful sneer ; 
And in the space of twice three winks 



?s 



Her character to zero sinks. 

Where now's a man's vaunted noble mind! 

It.s all a perfect Miam you'll find. 

Here comes a man who wants a wife 

To walk with him the path of life, 

So he selects the queen of girls 

With ros-y cheeks and teeth like pearls^ 

And such a form, it to his eye 

No pigec^n could in plumpness vie ;. 

And when at last s>he is a bride. 

And he alone is by her side, 

And she begins to dofifher fads, 

Her dress, and stays, and several pads,. 

Removes her teeth, wipes off the paint, 

He feels as though he'd surely faint ; 

And when he .sees that pack of bones. 

He mourns with iaward sighs and groans 

And wonders what's the reason why, 

They say that figures will not lie. 

For sure!}' her's, so plump and neat. 

Is nothing but a rank deceit. 

Here comes two people who are friends. 
And so will be until the ends, 
They have in view they shall have gained ; 
Then when their object is attained. 
Like an old shoe that's thrown aside, 
They'll merely let each other slide, 
Which proves the fact of which I am, 
Most certain, friendship's but a sham. 

Here goes a man and wife to call. 
We'll follow them, too, in the hall, 
And there by keeping strictl}' whist 
Their conversation we may list,. 
And peeking through the kej'hole, note 
How they upon each other dote, 
And speak in most endearing terms 
Unto each other, which affirms 
The true affection of their lives ; 
*' She is the darlingest of wives ; " 
He says so all the crowd maj' hear, 
.A.nd calls her Angel, Love, and Dear, 
While she his notice doth return, 
And for his presence seems to yearn, 
And answers him with loving words, 
And there they coo and bill like birds ; 
While all the crowd looks and admires. 
Nor of such true affection tires, 



39 



Por never saw the}- like to this, 
"Such perfect love and wedded bliss. 
Now if 3-011 have a mind to roam, 
Will follow them towards their home. 
And ere they get one-half way there. 
He at his Love begins to swear ; 
Whilst in a perfect rage she gets, 
And then the vilest epithets 
The}- heap upon each other's heads ; 
Then hie them Tiome to sep'rate beds, 
And like enough the}- will not speak 
"Unto each other for a week. 
Now where's the sweets of wedded bliss ? 
They're all a perfect sham like this. 

Hei-e conies a man with visage metk , 

Whose black attire is verj- sleek, 

His air and clothing spick and span 

Do both bespeak the clergj-man ; 

Let's follow to his journey's end 

Where he will call upon a friend, 

Whose husband is away from home. 

And so will be for hours to come ; 

They talk about the weather first, 

Then of the sins b}^ which we''re cursed , 

And of Religion's lofty power 

To quell those ills, and ere the hour 

Has to the shades three quarters flown. 

His arm around her waist is thrown. 

And on her lips he leaves a kiss ; 

And if this is Religion, this 

Concerning which he'll preach and prate, 

I've all I care for on my plate ; 

And ministers, else I'm a liar, 

Are mostly wolves in sheep's attire ; 

Or what's as bad, have cloven feet 

To make Religion a deceit. 

Here is a mansion grand and fine. 

With workmanship of rare design ; 

Let us go in and look around 

And see what shams may here be found ; 

Come in the parlor through the hall. 

And note the hangings on the wall, 

The fine piano rich and grand. 

The elegant and costly stand, 

The bric-a-brac a priceless store, 

And velvet carpets on the floor ; 

Now here you think you nothing find 



40 



To prove the thing I have in mind ; 

But now my friend just come with me, 

And we shall see what we shall see ; 

Here is the kitchen xold and bare 

With but a table, stove and chair ; 

Where when from calling she comes back 

The mistress doffs her seal skin sacque, 

And sits her down in robes of silk. 

And eats her tea ot bread and milk ; 

And then her spouse in rich attire 

Comes in and sits withovit a fire. 

And makes his rae^l of milk and bread, 

And then they both go off to bed ; 

Now note those garments 'neath their dress, 

They're in a state of wretchedness, 

And nothing more than flimsy rags, 

With patches here and there some tags ; 

And will you glance toward those hose, 

They're minus both their heels and toes ; 

But this don't worry them I ween 

For tbev but care for what is seen, 

And willingly would live on dust 

To be considered upper crust ; 

And I'm convinced, well yes 1 am, 

That Aristocracy's a sham. 

But now my friend 1 must go home 
For I this time no more can roam, 
But shams you see do much abound 
And may in every place be found. 
For you yourself cant help but own 
That these are perfect which I've shown. 
And when my busy season's o'er 
Just call around and see some more. 

Oh for a dovelet's wings to fl}-. 
Where I in peace might live and die. 
Nor once upon my journey meet 
With either sham or vile deceit. 



DON'T JUDGE BY APPEARANCH. 

You should never judge a person by the clothing that he 

wears, 
For you'll often find the raiiusnt of a sheep on vv'olves and 

bears, 
A;i:l a snovvy loo'ciiig uxrplic; biles a bosjm foul with sin 
So who judges by appearance v.'ill get sadly taken in. 



4' 

You will find the finest diamonds on the higgest kind of 

rogues, 
And the slickest looking coats, too, on the meanest sort of 

dogs, 
And the lowest kind of people wear the richest kind of 

clothes, 
And the noblest minded person oft' in tattered garments 

goes. 

You will find the gayest kind of plumage growing on a song- 
less bird. 

And the plainest feathered songster makes the sweetest mu- 
sic heard ; 

And the finest of bananas lie the blackest rind within ; 

And the sweetest kind of orange has the roughest kind of 
skin. 

Oft' the man who Icoks the sprucest and is always dressed 

to kill. 
Owes the barber, and the tailor, and the washerwoman's 

bill; 
While the man whose coat is shabby has a pocket full of tin ; 
So who judges by appearance will get sadly taken in. 



NATURE'S NOBLEMAN, 

Yon may bow to wealth and station. 

But I never could nor can, 
For I'll only own allegiance 

Unto nature's nobleman ; 
He who towers above his fellows 

By his great and lofty mind, 
And by nature was created 

As a king among mankind. 

He may be both poor and lowly, 

Clad in tatters and in tags, 
But I love and honor genius, 

Though it be arrayed in rags ; 
And the noblest minded person 

That this world has ever seen, 
Had no place of habitation. 

And his clothes were poor and mean. 

'Tis not clothes that makes the person. 

Nor degree, nor yet estate, 
But a noble mind, God given. 

Is what makes one truly great ; 



42 

And I with the ancient preacher 
Inconsistencies have seen, 

Servants riding upon horses, 
Kings performing service mean. 

Merit oft' goes unrewarded, 

As of course it always will. 
And though crushed by foul injustict 

Yet the virtue is there still ; 
And the dormant germs of genius, 

Although chilled by cold neglect. 
Often blossom into splendor, 

When the thing we least expect. 

Rut to come back to my subject, 

He must noble be and just. 
Nor perform an act dishonest. 

Nor betray the simplest trust. 
Square and honest in his actions 

To the very slightest thing ; 
Such must be the man I'll honor, 

As he stands an uncrowned king. 

Then ye simple minded people 

Bowing to an empty name 
Or the gods of pomp and mammon. 

You are welcome to the same ; 
Bot I with you will not worship. 

For I never could nor can ; 
But I'll swear eternal homage 

Unto nature's nobleman. 



THE CUP OF LOVH. 

Oh drink my soul of blisses, 

Drink deeply while you may. 
Of joy, and love, and kisses, 

While yet it is to-day ; 
Oh drain this cup of pleasures, 

This draught of nectar quaflf. 
For soon life's fullest treasures 

Will turn to empty chaff; 
And when shall come the morrow 

And changes on us call. 
Our joy shall turn to sorrow, 

To wormwood and to gall ; 
For blossoms that are fairest, 
The sweetest, and the rarest, 



43 

The soonest fade and fall. 

For love, the sweetest treasure 

By God to mankind given, 
At morn may prove a pleasure, 

A bitterness at even' ; 
And in the fairest blossoms 

There lurks a drop of bane ; 
So love within our bosoms 

May leave .a deathless pain ; 
Then while t1;€ spirit's o'er us 

Let's quaff ^his draft divine. 
This cup of love before tis. 

Though it be poisoned wine ; 
Then drink my soui of blisses, 

Drink deeply while you may, 
Of icy, and love, and kisses 

While yet it is to-day ; 
For plossoms that are fairest, 

The sweetest, and the rarest, 
The soonest fade awav. 



Insult not the fallen, of that have a care, 
FvUough of life's burdens alaeady they bear ; 
And guilty and evil the heart that can add 
A pang to the spirit already so sad. 



As a flower that's crushed and trampled 
Sends the sweetest fragrance forth. 

So the soul must taste of sorrow. 
Ere 'twnll prove its finest worth. 



THE WAY IT GOES. 

Upon the roost in Biddyville a little pullet sat, 

.•\ spot upon her breast did itch and so she picked at that, 

A feather loosened by the act went fluttering below, 

" Oh dear," says she. "the more I pick the handsomer I 

grow. ' ' 
She tucked her head beneath her wing and soon was fast 

asleep ; 
But not so with another hen, who did a virgil keep. 
Until the hens were all asleep that sat upon the roost, 
So she, if anything occurred, of knowing it could boast. 



44 

She nudged her neighbor in the side and whispered in her 
ear ; 

"Vou know that little Downy Breast, who sits beyond us 
here, 

I heard her stir and watched her pick three feather.-; from 
her breast, 

So that the Chanticleer would think her fairer than the rest. " 

"Well is that so? I always thought she was a forward thing;" 

And with these. words she turned and hit her neighbor on 
the wing, 

And told her that Miss Downy Breast had plucked out feath- 
ers five, 

For love of Mr. Chanticleer who hated her alive. 

She, in her turn, her neighbor told, who sent the tale along. 

And each a quill or two to add seemed not to think wrong ; 

And when it reached to Turkeytown, the talej-ou'd not have 
known, 

It had, from adding here and there, to such proportions 
grown. 

To gain the admiration of the Cock in Biddj^ville 

Three lovelorn pullets from their forms had plucked out 
ev'ry quill ; 

vSo it was told and nearly dead they were from freezing 
weather ; 

So thus three unfledged fowls had grown from one poor lit- 
tle feather. 



THE POOR WOMAN'S BXPERIHNCB A' 
CHURCH 

I thought I heard a knocking 

And did too for a fact ; 
You thought you'd stop and leave me 

A nice religious tract. 
Which tells us of that creature, 

The father of all lies, 
And how we may discern him 

In whatsoever guise. 

See here, aint you the woman 

Who asked me down to church. 
And when you there had got me 

Just left me in the lurch ? 
You really don't remember, 

Well if you don't I do. 
And I'll refresh vour mem'ry 

B}' facts I'll state to 3'ou. 



45 

■ 'Twas in the month of Auguk 

You called m here to see 
If I had got a Bible; 
And then you questioned me 

■ About my soul's condition 

And if I went to church, 
For Satan, if I didn't, 
Would get me in the lurch. 

I said I had no clothing 

To wear to such a place, 
And there you sat and told nie 

With that decietful face 
They wouldn't mind my garments- 

And want the soul's repoSC 
Ten times more consequential 

Than all the finest clothes ; 

■ And if I'd go to meeting 

To hear about the Lord, 
My soul will surely fiad there 
A H'eavenly Ye ward. 

And so on Suuday morning, 

It was the very next, 
"I dressed and -v^relit te meeting 

So as to hear 'the text. 
"I know my clothes were rather 

Of antiquated st3'le, 
And when the church I enterei'i 

The folks began to smvle. 

'This set me in a fluster, 

As well I recollect, 
TFor sucli a smiling greeting 

I didn't quite expect, 
.And when the smiling broadene<) 

Into a perfect grin. 
And someone tittered outright 

I wished I'd not gone in. 

But then thinks I encouraged<, 

I shall a welcome find 
AVhen once that lady sees me 

Who was so good and kind ,• 
..\nd sure enough the sexton 

Then seated me by you. 
And you with bearing scornful, 

Awa}' from me withdrevv % 
And from my hand extended 

You turned in cold disdain, 



46 

JTor ventured through the servicE 
To look at me again.. 

And as I ssl beside you. 

Amid the people's sneers, 
1 own that I could scarcely 

Keep Ixick the scalding tears-. 
For no one else pretended 

With me to sympathize. 
And I had been encouraged 

By your deceitful lies 
To go down there to meeting. 

In that old hat and frock,. 
And now that I had got there 

Was made a laughing stock . 
And when the congregation 

Their ridicule had shown. 
Vou left me in my trouble 

To fight it out alone. 

I didii't hear the sermon 

Nor anj'thing 'twas said. 
For all at once my feelings 

Seemed withered up and dead ; 
But all the while I wondered, 

As there I sat by you, 
If Jesus had have been there 

If He'd have scorned me too. 

Oh but I had a thinking, 

As there I sat that day, 
The which if I should tell yon 

Would take your breath away. 
But as it is all over 

We'll let the matter drop, 
But you no more need trouble 

Yourself with me to stop. 

But there's a certain subject 

Of which I'd like to tell, 
(For though I know but little. 

I know that little well,) 
A fact that's true as preaching, 

Then be it understood 
The churches of the present 

Do more of harm tlian good. 

For with their pride and fashion 

They scorn upon the whole, 
The thing to God most precious 



47 

Ali\iml->le person''3 soul. 
And if we go to wor&hip 

They ridicule and laugli 
And feed our starving spirits. 

With empty husks and chafF, 
And I have no more uses 

For churches, goodness Tcnows, 
Who only care for people 

Who dress in splendid clothes. 

And if 5^our tracks there tell yoa 

How you may know that elf. 
Most commonly called satan. 

Just keep them for yourself. 
But no, you two may leave me. 

Then go and come no more, 
And I prefer the kind that 

Leave heels toward th« doon 



THE DEAD GARDEN OF THE HEART. 

Oh the founts of my heart are as waters of Marah, 
Ami unfruitful its soil as the sands of Sahara, 
And all faded and dead in the bloom of its verdure, 
For the moisture is gall which its gardens did nurture. 

Dry and dead in its bloom lies Love's beautiful blos>^()m, 
AVhich an Eden-like garden did make of my bosom, 
And I mourn o'er the flower that decayed in its beauty. 
Though my spirit it lured from the pathway of duty. 

Also Friendship's bright flower with its beautiful mission, 
Lieth withered and dead, killed by doubt and suspicion, 
And I silently weep in my woe, broken hearted. 
For the blossom of Friendship forever departed. 

While the fair flower of Hope, which in glorious beauty, 
Shed a radiance bright round the dark path of Duty, 
With the sweet bud of Faith which my spirit did cherish, 
Were the last of the flowers of my bosom to perish. 

And I bitterly mourn in the depths of my sorrow. 

For the floweis of my soul which bloom not on the morrow, 

For the founts of my heart are as waters of Marah, 

And unfruitful its soil as the sands of Sahara. 



VIRTUE IS ITS OWN RHWAKD' 

^nto you ^'e wii'sonie maidens 

Are the songs I sing to-day. 
Songs of warning and entreat}', 

Lest your feet are led astray . 
By the ever watchful tempter 

Who is seeking ev'ry howr, 
Like a grim and famished monster. 

For the prey he may devour. 

You will, find him in the lover, 

In the man whom yoo adore, 
Who professes that he loves you 

In his very bosoms core, 
But although he this professes 

It is not Love's holy flame, 
That could doom a guiless spirit 

To a never ending shame. 

He to gain his selfish object 
Lauds your graces to the skies, 

VX'hile your too confiding natvire 
In his heart he doth despise,. 

And when won he'll cast you from hiua 
Like a' flower that's lost its bloom,. 

And you'll henceforth walk in shadows- 
Worse than shadows of the tomb,. 

Maidens listen not the pleadings,, 

Thoivgh you love with hearts of flame- , 
Of the mran who'd cast a shadow 

O'er the lUster of your fame, 
And you'll join in yeara to follow 

Ibe this song with one accord, 
(And no words were ever truer^. 

Virtue is its own reward.- 



K THERE A HELL? 

Some people doubt that there's a helL 

That is they claim they do, 
But in my soul I hope there is 

P/en though I go there too, 
For where'll the prosp'rous evil man- 

Whom wealth and power begirts. 
If there ''s no future punishment. 

Receive his just deserts. 



49 



The man who robs his fellowman 

Of character and wealth, 
And e'en his wife's affections steals 

Through vilest kinds of stealth ; 
And whom you'd siirely deem a saint, 

To hear him sing and pray. 
As his Religion he parades 

Upon the Sabbath day. 

He walks into the house of God 

With sanctimonious air, 
And listens with a saintly grace 

Unto the text and prayer, 
And in the minister's Amen 

He joins in tones devout. 
While in these hymns his pious voice 

In heartfelt notes rings out. 

"To aid the widow in distress, 

This day oh Lord I vow," 
He sings and thinks how Monday morn 

He'll go and get tliat cow 
That Widow Murray bought last May 

And of its cost paid half, 
And as the rest is overdue 

He'll take with it its calf. 

" To do as I would be done by 

Oh Jesus teach me how," 
And of that man who wants that loan 

He sits and ponders now, 
And as the cash he's got to have 

What usury to charge, 
Nor deems the sum often per cent 

To be a cent too large. 

" Teach me to feel another's woe 

To hide the faults I see," 
And thinks he'll tell the minister 

About that Charlie Lee, 
Who, as he walked out with a friend. 

Not knowing he was near. 
Went with that friend to a saloon 

And got a drink of beer. 

'•The mercy I to others show, 

That mercy show to me," 
He sings and ponders in his mind 

And hopes it cannot be 
That anyone will lend Brown funds 

To pay that debt he owes. 



5»^ 

And if tlie)- don't, on Tuesday noon) 
His mortgage he'll foreclose. 

Ind then he lists with air devout 

The Benedidtive prayer, 
Xnd hies L'o an adjoining street 

And joins his siren there, 
Ind scorns the pleadings of the maid'. 

He meets irpon tlie way, 
Who', while she in- his service v^as. 

He vilely did betray. 

"That's pretty stuff to put in print,' " 

I hear somebody say, 
But is- it worse to write it up^ 

Than 'tis^to act it, pray ? 
And you angelic creatures who*' 

With fury dap your wings-, 
.\r.e very liable to be 

The ones who do these things. 

Tou know they say the truth cuts hard. 

And tliat is what I tell,. 
And for »uch hypocrites as this 

I hope there ivS a hell ;. 
A gooi old fashioned hell, where thosf 

Who claim to love the Lord,. 
Rut serve the Devil in their hearts 

May find their just reward. 

And though you think 1 say too much 

About Licentious loves. 
It's high time that this subject should 

Be handled without gloves. 
But whatsoe'er you think or say 

I''m sure I'll try to bear it. 
And whosoe'er the coat may fife 

May put it on and vrear it. 



SILLY WOMEN' 

Oh you sill}' minded women, 

Caring but for dress and show,. 
Daubing on your paint and powder, 

Ijre you on the war path go; 
vStriving to' attract attention 

From the gentlemen you meet,. 
Making mashes, as yon call it, 

On the rowdies of the street; 



5'» 



Sneering at your wiser sisters 

Who refuse with you to roam, 
Tou will wish ere this has ended 

You like they had stayed at home. 
Though you deem 'tis admiration 

That these people feel for you, 
'You w^ould soon change your opinion 

If the truth of it you knew, 
And could you but hear the speeches 

Intermixed with slurs and sneers 
'That they make to friends about you, 

How your smiles would change to tears, 
-And althoirgli you deem she's slighted 

Whom such people notice least, 
:Know you not that buzzards gather 

Where they're surest of a feast ? 
-And when through yoxir silly conduct 

You have won a tarnished name, 
"You will have this consolation, 

There's none but A'ourselves to blame. 



NO GOOD ON EARTH. 

The man who's always borrowing 

But never wants to lend ; 
Who will abuse behind his back 

His very truest friend ; 
"Who with the rowdies loiters on 

The corner of the stree^t ; 
^Mlo always will accept a drink 

Rut never offers treat ; 
Who dawdles all his time away 

Upon the thoroughfare. 
Insulting half the women folks 

Who have to meet him there ; 
Who could be bought for just a cent, 

{A cent more than he's worth) ; 
This is the man of whom T sing. 

He is no good oti earth. 

The woman who about her work 

Is slovenly and slack ; 
W^ho takes all that her husband earns 

And puts it on her back ; 
Who while her kitchen work's undone 

From house to house doth gad, 



5: 



Proclaiming that all womenkind 

Except herself are bad ; 
Who*alway^-seems to want to be 

The first to cast the stone ; 
Who while condemning others faults 

Forgets about her own ; 
Who when her little soul was bom 

A cipher had its birth ; 
This woman 'tis of whom I sing, 

She is no good on earth. 



vStand forth ! You prisoner at the bar, 
Now have 3-ou aught to say, 

Wh)' you for taking forcibh' 
This person's gold away 

.Should not this day be sentenced to 
The penitentiary ? 

I have. You'll find within that book 
That lies there on the shelf 

A good sufficient reason why 
I from him took his pelf, 

And 'twas because it says the Lord 
Helps him who helps himself. 



THE DRUNKARD'S SON(;. 

I'm a jolly chap and frisky, 
Very fond of drinking whiskey, 

But you know that I suppose, 
By my clothes so old and tattered. 
And my hat so rough and battered. 

And the blossoms on ni}' nose. 

I have neither shirt nor collar, 
Drunk I get on every dollar. 

Or I should say every cent, 
Then I wallow in the ditches, 
Badly soiling coat and breeches, 

Until I to jail am sent. 

Once I had a wife and baby 
Just as nice as yours is, maybe, 

But I went upon a drunk 
And came home and took the poker. 
Knocked her down and tried to choke her 

And I guess it raised her spunk 



Yor she went away next iiiorranjj 
'Thout a single word of warning-., 

And I've never seen lier since, 
-So I drink, Iwccough, and stutter. 
And go sprawling in tli€ gutter, 

Just asliappy as a prince. 

^Sotnetimes a'fter drunken revels, 
Snakes I see and little devils. 

And they clamber roujid m}- bed. 
Then the wa\' I howl and bellow- 
Is enough to scare a fellow 

Eaiiamost out of his bead. 

'Then come on, you drinking devil, 
»Soon with nie you'll find your levels 

Come ahead and take a drink. 
But if we donH soon prohibit. 
In the jail or on the gibbet 

We shall end our lives T think 



THE MOST IMPORTANT TOPIC 

I cannot help but notice 

When I take up the papers, 
The place of honor they devote 

To pugilistic capers, 
•Of half a dozen ruffian brutes, 

•Who pound and maul each other 
Until it is impossiUe 

To tell the which from t'othef. 

This all absorbing topic fills 

Its most important pages, 
As it describes how Jack and Tom 

Each other mauled for wages. 
Whilst the inferior themes of state, 

Like little Jack}' HorueJ- 
With Sammy's rights and Ireland's wrongL^ 

Are stuck off in the corner. 

The paper dwells upon the scene 

And piants in pictures glowing 
Their attitudes within the pit, 

Their every movement showing. 
And raves about their brawn, (not brain) 

Their actions and reposes, 
And how they cracked each other's ribs 

And broke each other's noses. 



54 



It tells how Thomas Knock-em-Down's 

Opponent rushed forth at him, 
Expecting on tliV verj' spot 

To wonderfully bat him, 
But Thomas, hisVggressor's blow 

Now parried discreetly, 
And at the tenth or 'leventh round 

He knocked him out completeh-. 

And thus the paper goes along 

The combatatants applauding, 
And of the one -who won the fight 

It speaks in language lauding, 
And I myself can't help but own 

'Tis very elevating, 
A thirst for all that's great and good 

Within the soul creating. 

But when some people whom we know 

Get in a scrimmage d.unken, 
We think that when they've come to blows 

It's very low they've sunken 
But then it makes some difierence 

In fighting I'll go bail 
If men ten thousand dollars win 

Or sixty days in jail. 



DARK- 

They mixed them up the black and white 
To judge which one was nearest right, 
And what do you think ? The blackest sheep 
Came out at the head and top of the heap. 



THE CHANGR. 

Dear girls, there's been an awful change 

Since John and I were married, 
And could I have that change forseen 

I longer would have tarried, 
Nor would have been in such a haste 

To leave that land of blisses, 
Where life was but one round of love 

And sweet delicious kisses ; 
But now, alas, no kiss I get, 

That nonsense all is over, 



55 



For when I did a husband win 
I lost my darling lover. 

He used to call nie ere we'd wed 

His little pigeon Hattie 
Because I was so very plump, 

But now he calls me Fatty ; 
And then he raved in glowing terms 

Aboxit my auburn tresses, 
And wore a lock next to his heart 

With pieces of my dresses, 
But I no more am auburn haired, 

I simply am redheaded. 
It's color's taken such a change 

vSince John and I were wedded. 

You know he used to come to tea 

When he and I were coiirting, 
And then he used to say to me. 

Without a thought of sporting, 
The biscuits that I used to make 

When we took tea together. 
Were nice enough for Angel's food 

And lighter than a feather ; 
But now when T such biscuits make 

(With woe I write these pages) 
Instead of feath'ry angel food 

He calls them rocks of ages. 

lie used to tell his pigeon then 

Before he'd really caught her, 
vSlie'd never be obliged to put 

Her hands into cold water ; 
But when I spoke of it to-day. 

With sorrow I repeat it, 
He said he didn't s'pose I'd be 

Too lazy for to heat it ; 
And that is just the way it goes 

Dear girls the wide world over, 
The minute you a husband win 

You'll surelv lose vour lover. 



Man and wife met in a dark hallway. 

And they hugged and kissed each other, 
For he thought it was her sister 

And she thouhht it was his brother. 
Found out their mistake of course 
Now are suing for divorce. 



5-6 

HOW rDHAVHHHRBf:: 

f wish S had a clianning- wife 
To walk with'me the path of hfe, 
Who how to pTease nie e're woold eon^ 
\nd keep ni}" buttons all sewed on.. 

[.'d have her when the sun sh®uld rise 
To open wids her tender eyes. 
And give me their first loving glance.. 
And hem the bottoms of my pants. 

A model wife'^l'd have her be. 
From gossip and backbiting free, 
To ease niy pains awA heal my hurts^ 
.And patch up my old undershirts. 

[• would prefer with her tx) staj', 
Ikit when that I must be away 
I'd have her heed my fond requests, 
And set new backs in my old vests^ 

Her greatest happiness should be. 

To seat lierself and sew for me 

Until her e3'es burst from their sockets. 

But whan she'd mended keep my pockets. 

Thiis she should be a charming wife 
Who happier would make my life. 
For Well I know she'd on me dote 
And fix the lining of mj' coat. 

A,nd like a pair of turtle doves. 
We'd feast and thrive upon our loves. 
For I would bill and she could coo 
And keep mj' stockings darned up too- 



THE wmi 

A hat, coat, vest and a pair of pants. 

And the figure they contain, 
A pair of shoes and a fly necktie, 

And a great big headed cane, 
And if thati should go to the pains. 
To find which head contained the most Ijrains 
The head of the dude or the head of the cane 
1 think that my efforts would all be in vain. 



57 



WHICH WAS WORST? 

11 was at an evening party 

Where the people had conversed 

Of the ravages of sparrows 

And of worms and which was worst? 

Miss DeStnith sat next her suitor 

Who the conversation lost, 
As a book of fine engravings 

His attention had engiossed. 

She not knowing that the fellow 

Had not heard a single word, 
Of the conversation asked him 

Which he thought worst, worm or bird ? 

Are sparrows then as bad as worms ? 

" What think you Mr. Barrows? " 
" I cannot tell " he said surprised, 

" I never have had sparrows." 



LOOK BEFORE YOU LEAP 

If ever you are tempted 

To go beyond your means, 
And buy a suit of broadcloth 

When you should purchase jeans, 
Or buy a useless object 

Because it is so cheap, 
You'd better take my coun.sel 

And look before you leap. 

If ever you are tempted 

To cut a brilliant dash, 
And like a dazzling comet 

All end up in a flash ; 
You'll find 'twas injudicious 

To fly where you should creep 
And break your neck in falling, 

So look before you leap. 

Young fellows, if you're tempted 
When flushed a deal with wine, 

Because a creature waltzes 
So awfully divine 

To pop the question to her. 
Go home and go to sleep, 



58 

And sober up a little, 

And look before you leap 

Remember ^irls, when tempte.i 

To wed a sporting man, 
Because he's gay and handsome, 

Instead of honest Dan, 
Who'll make the truest husband 

A lifetime you may weep 
For just a moment's folly, 

So look before you leap. 

In whatsoever business 

In life yoft may embark. 
You'll save your soul from trouble 

If unto me you'll hark, 
Nor go it at a gallop 

Where you should only creep, 
And keep your eyes wide open 

And look before you leap. 



MR. JONES AND THH ROCKIM; CHAIR 

Home from the club came Mr. Jones, 

And with a silent step 
He entered his domicile. 

And up the stairs he crept. 

Now Mrs. Jones, with great forethought, 

Had placed the rocking chair 
For Mr. Jones to stumble o'er 

When he came up the stair. 

For though he said 'twas only ten 

When he got home club night, 
She thought if he had said 'twas one 

He'd hit it nearer right. 
Jones' mind was full of funny things 

That happened at the club, 
When all at once against the chair 

He chanced his toe to stub. 

The chair rocked back and hit his chin, 

And made him bite his tongue 
As down he stooped to pet his toe 

And then the fight begun. 

Jones pitched into that rocking chair 
That rocking chair at him, 



59 

And from the first I will admit 
Jones' chance was pretty slim. 

He hit it squarely in the back, 

It made a forward plunge, 
And with its rockers sharp from behind 

It gave his chest a lunge. 

He kicked at it with all his might, 

But that kick cost him woe, 
It barked the skin from off his shin, 

The nail from ofif his toe. 

Then if a man was ever mad 

That man was Mr. Jones, 
As round about that chair he pranced 

With smothered swears and groans. 

Now if he'd given up the fight 

And left the chair alone. 
And bathed his wounds with arnica, 

He wisdom would have shown. 

But no that chair should never think 

It got the best of him, 
vSo headlong at the pesky thing 

He rushed with all his vim. 

Oh dear me suz, he went so fast 

He sprawled across the chair, 
And with a most tremendous din 

They tumbled down the stair. 

Sometimes the chair was on the top 

And sometimes Mr. Jones, 
The chair its back and rockers broke. 

And he most of his bones. 

Then Mrs. Jones with injured air 
Asked what that racket meant, 

(Though she had placed that rocking chair 
With villainous intent. ) 

But Mr. Jones the point now saw, 

Or thought he saw the fun. 
When from the sitting room the clock 

Chimed out the hour— 'twas one. 

He answered not a single word, 

But picked up his remains 
And silently crept up to bed 

To nurse his aches and pains. 



6o 

Now not a word said Mrs. Jones 
Concerning what had been, 

Bnt Mr. Jones from that night on 
Arrived at he-xiie at ten. 



LEATHER BREFXHHS 

Come sit you down beside nie 

And listen while I tell 
A circumstance peculiar, 

Which unto me befell 
When I was but a stripling 

Upon my father's farm 
Which filled my soul with horror 

And terrible alarm. 

Full well do I remember, 

'Twas on an autumn day 
And I to Uncle Nathan's 

Had started on my way 
To do my father's errand 

And have him come at morn, 
And bring his yoke of oxen 

To help us draw our corn. 
I had on leather breeches 

Through which a hole had worn 
Upon the seat which mother 

Had patched, but I had torn 
It loose somehow or other. 

And now to make it right 
I stuffed it in the opening 

And hid it out of sight. 
I went along quite nicely 

Until I did commence 
To stone the little chipmunks 

That played around the fence, 
And then I found some chestnuts 

A lying on the ground, 
And when of these I gathered, 

A hare I chased around. 
And so the time I wasted 

In idleness and play. 
Until I should have been there 

And on my homeward way, 
When all at once my feelings 

Experienced quite a shock, 



6! 

Pot when from home I started 
'Twas only three o'clock 

And now from indications. 

As sure as Fin alive, 
And it's fhe trut"h I'm tellin^f. 

It was as late as five, 
And as I was a coward 

I started on a rim 
And reached my Uncle Nathan^s 

At setting of the sun. 

I qiiickly did my errand 

And "hied me from the s])ot^ 
And started for my fathers 

Upon a lively trot. 
For as it now was twilight 

And dark "'twould be at six, 
And I'd two miles to travel 

I had to pick up sticks 

I've said I was a coward 

And 'twas tlie truth I told, 
"For certainly beside me 

A hare was overbold, 
And when up close behind me 

I heard a fearful sound 
My feet, I went so swiftly, 

Did scarcely touch the ground. 

P^or terror lent me fleetuess 

And on I went like wind, 
That horrifying creature 

Still coming on behind. 

3 dared not look behind me 

For fear of what I'd see. 
For all the while the monster 

Kept right up close to me. 
And when I tried to leave it 

I couldn't make it do, 
For when I went the faster 

That went the faster too. 

The moon looked down in horror, 

The stars in pity stared. 
And I meanwhile a getting 

Still worse and worser scared. 

Into infernal spirits 
Seemed changed the stubs and posts 



62- 

And little shrubs and bushes 
All seemed^turned into ghosts . 

Rap, rap, on came the creature- 

And I flew on before 
Chased bj' the fearful monster 

Along the road I tore, 
When all at once before me 

A welcome light did beam^ 
And for the glorious beacon 

I flew on-like a dream, 

Wliile still up close behind me- 

The climax for to cap 
Came on that flying creature 

With its unearthly rap,. 
Ahd on it foUowe i after 

Up to the kitchen door 
As I with yell terrffic 

Sprang in upon the floor. 
And looked around Ijehind me 

To see if I could see 

That horrifpng creature 
That had so frightened me, 

And sure enough the thing I saw. 
Oh shades of ghosts and witches, 

'Twas nothing but that dangling patch 
A flapping on my breeches. 



THE MAN OP ONI: IDEA. 

For merc5''s sake, do look a there. 
There comes that horrid old night mare. 
That man who'd make a preacher swear, 
That man of one idea. 

He'll put ottr souls upon the rack 
And. take us down that beaten track, 
Then turn and come the same way back. 
That man of one idea, 

That same old story he will tell. 
Ring that old ding, dong, sing, song bell 
With its eternal constant knell, 
This man of one idea. 



?>3 

For Heaven's sake go get a gun 
And shoot, and then pretend 'twas done 
By accident or jnst in fun, 
This man of one idea. 

'The Lily and the Rose got to quarreling, 
The Rose called the Lily a white livered thing. 
The Lily told the rose if ^he was in her place 
She'd go and pnt some powder on her old red face. 

MY FIRST PANTS 

I suppose I should say 
That my happiest day 

Was the day that I called you my wife^ 
But the day I'll advance 
That I donned my first pants 

Was the happiest day of my life. 

I for office have run 
And my party has won. 

And I also won you for a wife ; 
And our first was a boy 
Who's a hope and a joy 

And a happiness unto my life. 

I have tasted the bliss 

Of loves first sweetest kiss, 

And I've seen my plans flourish and grow, 
Fondest hopes gratified 
I have drank in my pride 

All the joys that this world can bestow. 

I've the lottery sought 
And a ticket I've bought, 

Which a fortune to me did advance, 
But there's nothing can give 
Though forever I live 

Such a J03' as m}' first pair of pants, 

KINDRED SPIRITS. 

Oh wh}' should kindred spirits 
With but one mind, one heart, 

With every thought in common 
Be doomed to dwell apart ? 

Why must th}' heaving bosom 
Whereon m)' heart should rest 

Forever and forever 

Be severed from this breast ? 



64 

Why must this mighty passion 
Which rends our souls in twain. 

And speaks of untold blisses 
I'orever be in vain ? 

Thy passionate caresses 
Why must I e'er forego 

And miss the sweetest pleasures 
This world can e're bestow ? 

Oh why must my kindred spirits 
With but orte mind, one heart. 

Forever and forever 

Redoomed to dwell apart. 



SOMHOXH HLSirS FAULTS 

Mow ver}- fast we are to note the failings of our brother. 
But cultivate ourselves those traits we hate so in another ; 
Nor in our ignorance we deem as we their faults condemn. 
That they as mean things see in us as we can see in them. 

'Tis altogether too niucli time we people sj>end in railing 
About somebody else's faults and some one else's failings, 
For we're so anxious for their .sins to cast at them the stone. 
That in our haste we all forget to think about our own. 

If we would hetchel our ov%n flax and 'tend to our own spin- 
ning, 

We'd not have (juite so much of time to note our neighbors 
sining ; 

And as we for some fancied sin, their character assault — 

We do not know enough to know we've much the meaner 
fault. 

It makes me think of fabled limes, when men bore on their 

shoulders 
A hump wherein their faults were made quite plain to all 

beholders ; 
And each man thought from such defects that he alone was 

free — 
Because the hump on his own back, he in no wise could see. 

And so my friends to our own faults, let's give our whole 
attention ; 

Nor dare, as long as we've one left, another ones to mention; 

An pray that fate, from scorn and tdiame and much con- 
tempt to free us ; 

Will give us power to see ourselves, — as other people see us. 



